Resistance is futile
by Kaia-Rhea
Summary: Thirteen finds herself in a familiar situation when she is attacked. Rated M for violence and rape.
1. Chapter 1

_I haven't gotten more than six reviews on any one of my stories. *Sob sob* So I'm gonna keep trying new things until I hit the right 'note' so to speak, and find the topic that people actually _**_like_**_ reading about.  
If you like Hurt/Comfort, then I have a couple of other stories, both also containing Thirteen and Cameron, so if you like this then I would love it if you could give them a try too.  
And I hope all that whining about my lack of reviews on other stories will lead you to hit that review button and give me some constructive crit, because I will lose all hope in humanity and check myself into an asylum if you don't. (No offence to mentally ill people.)  
I don't own any of the characters. Yeah, sucks to be me._****

Resistance is futile  
God, I hate January. All the excitement of Christmas is starting to wear off, you're coming to realise that your pathetic attempts at New Years resolutions are never going to stick, and on top of that it's still frigging freezing.  
On my walk home from the bus stop (my car was in the shop) it felt as if my toes were never going to recover from the cold, that they would simply drop off and that would be that.  
I shivered and braced myself against the snow, drifting lazily down from the sky. It was only a five minute walk, but as far as I was concerned it felt like five hours. Little did I know that the cold was soon to be the least of my troubles.

I let myself into my apartment as usual, expecting nothing to be out of place: After all, why should it be? I went to drop my keys on the coffee table and froze upon seeing an unfamiliar cell phone on the counter. It wasn't mine, or anyone else's... _Is someone in the apartment? _I thought to myself, backing towards the counter. I looked around warily, and reached for the phone. But before I could grab it, a figure came from the shadows, grabbed my wrist and span me round. I got one look into his cold, dark eyes before he swung his closed fist into the side of my face, sending me flying. I hit my head on the counter and was knocked out cold.

_Ugh, my head... _I thought groggily as I started to come to. I was vaguely aware of a shadow in my field of vision, binding my hands tightly behind my back. I tried to lick my lips but found that I was unable to, something was wrapped around my mouth. Duct tape. That was when I came to the realisation of what was happening to me. I was sitting up, my head lolling forwards. I felt sick, and my head throbbed. I groaned and tried to loosen the tape. My captor pushed me roughly against the floor; I squealed in pain, tears slipping down my face. He undid the button on my pants, and I squirmed and sobbed, trying to get away from his grasp. I knew what he was doing. _No... Not again... Please! _I begged silently. In the end, my attacker straddled me.  
"Shut up, bitch." he hit me once again, and I felt my nose crack. Blood spurted down my face, and I struggled to breathe through the blood. My body tensed as he forced himself further and further into me. I groaned in pain and embarrassment, my back arching as we both reached an unwilling climax. I moaned once again, and with one last thrust he pulled himself out of me. I curled up on my side, racked with heavy sobs. Every little part of me hurt, and I wanted nothing more than to sink into a hole in the ground and stay there for ever more. If only _he _had agreed. He grasped my shoulder and yanked me back to face him. I stared up at him, terror etched in my expression. He beat me, my face, my chest, my ribs, all of which felt as though they had been twisted and tortured for hours on end. I was screaming through my gag, trying to mumble pleads. I wanted him to stop. _Why wouldn't he stop? _After only minutes my body had given up the fight and I drifted into a welcome state of unconsciousness.

When I opened my eyes again, it was pitch black inside my apartment. As far as I could see my captor had vanished and I was, thankfully, alone. The rope tied roughly around my wrists had become loose, and I somehow managed to wriggle out of my bonds. I ripped the tape off my mouth and winced at the excruciating, fiery pain emancipating from almost every part of my body. I felt a bulge in my pocket when I reached down to pull my underwear back up- even when alone I longed for even a shred of privacy. It was my pager, _thank God. _  
And that is why, at 2:13am on a cold January morning, Lisa Cuddy received a six letter page: HELP ME

I must have passed out again, because I opened my eyes to find two blurry figures kneeling down beside me, whom I later learned to be Dr. Cuddy and for some reason, Dr. Cameron. One of them was holding my hand the other carefully feeling my ribcage for obvious fractures.  
I squinted in the bright light, and the person grasping my hand leant down to look in my eyes. She smiled, and I tried to return the favour.  
"Hey" she said softly. "Can you hear me?" I nodded and winced at the pain it caused. She sighed, and brushed the hair from my blood-stained cheek.  
"We'll get you cleaned up, and take you to Princeton, okay?" In my confused mind, I thought she meant to work.  
"It's my day off" I mumbled, before the realisation dawned on me. It must have shown on my face, as she smiled gently and squeezed my hand comfortingly.  
"I've found two fractures already. Whoever did this sure likes it rough- we need to call the police and an ambulance." another voice piped up. I clenched my hands into fists at my sides, my stomach knotting. This all felt so familiar, as if God were punishing me twice for an awful sin committed. Even to this day I struggle to find many sins that could warrant something like this, and none of them have I committed. Maybe there is no God after all. It's becoming more and more comforting to think that.  
How come when bad things happen, it's not God's fault but because of humans all having freewill,but when something good happens, it is the work of God? I don't think that's fair. After all, if you are choking and someone thankfully knows the heimlich manoeuvre and saves your life, then why should you thank God for the 'miracle' when surely that can be also accounted for as the exercising of freewill?  
I can see why people believe in God, but sometimes when bad things repeatedly happen to you then it's easier to not believe in Him.

I don't like ambulances. I never have done. The thought of how many dozens of people could have died in those vehicles freaks me out. I know it sounds weird because I work in a hospital, but I can't help it.  
I could feel myself shaking violently on the way to Princeton. My senses were slowly sharpening and I was more aware of what was going on around me, although I wasn't too pleased of that fact. I ached all over, my bones igniting with a pain as deep as a bolt of electricity every time I moved. My head pounded in the deep light and the hum of machines and the voices of the paramedics. I close my eyes, block out the all the noises.  
"Remy?"_ Lisa. _"We're going to put you to sleep for awhile. We'll wake you up once we're at the hospital, and let you know what's going on, I promise. Okay?"  
I mumbled incoherently, nodding slightly.

A few hours later I felt a hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently. It was Doctor Cuddy again. She spoke my name, once, twice, before I opened my eyes. I felt nauseous, hot, and sweaty, and I struggled to sit up.  
"You should try to keep still" Lisa chided me, but I ignored her, opening my eyes fully to look into her face. I blinked and rubbed my fists against my tired eyes. It was that foggy darkness outside, the kind that comes just before dawn in Winter. I stare out the window, in a complete reverie. The weird thing was that I wasn't totally fixated on what had happened just a few hours beforehand like I had done the first time. I was thinking of totally irrelevant things that should really have been at the back of my mind at that time. Lisa's eyes were still fixed on me, obscured with concern. I tried to smile, but it didn't reach my eyes, so I stared at my intertwined hands locked on top of the sheets of my hospital bed instead. I could feel her sympathy penetrating my skin, but I didn't want it. I didn't need it. I just wanted to curl up, go to sleep, and never wake up.  
"The police need to speak to you." Lisa said softly. "I tried to make them wait but it's urgent that they get a lead on this man." I lie back down on my side, facing away from her. She put a hand on my arm, and I winced as she put pressure on a newly-formed bruise, one of many.  
"Sorry. But you know how important this is, don't you?" It was a rhetorical question really; she expected me to agree with her. I shook my head slowly.  
"Come on Remy, it'll be okay. You're just in shock." I felt tears spring to my eyes and my lip began to quiver.  
"No." I whispered so quietly that Cuddy had to lean forward to hear me. "I'm in hell."  
She sat back in stunned silence, and a few minutes later I heard her leave the room.  
And then I cried.

_Meh. That's all I can say. If you like it and want me to continue, then please review. Because if I get no feedback then I'm not going to carry on the story._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thanks for the responses I got, they really made my day! This chapter is dedicated to savetoniqht, blondy808 and scullyschik. The events described at the beginning could be seen as a little extreme, and I agree. I didn't really think about it when I wrote it so I guess you'll just have to deal with it :P  
Enjoy, and don't forget to review! **_

"W-What do you want from me?" I stutter as he paces back and forth in front of me. He turns to look at me, an evil grin on his face. "I want you to submit." he replies. Tears spring to my eyes. 'Don't cry' I think to myself. 'Don't you dare cry.' I'm shaking all over, my wrists bound to the arms of the chair and my ankles to the legs of it. I look away, but he puts a hand under my chin and forces me to look in his direction.  
"You have two choices. Either you shut up and do exactly as I say exactly when I say it, or..." he produces a knife from his trouser pocket. "...Or I cut you. Which is it to be?" A tear silently trickles down my face. "I'll do anything you say." I tell him. He nods in satisfaction.  
"Good girl." He brings the knife to my arms and I wince, but all he does is slit the rope binding me to the chair, as well as my ankles. I take this opportunity and kick him hard, spring to my feet and make a dash for the door. It's locked. I cry out in desperation as he catches up to me.  
"Bad girl!" he scolds. "Now I'm going to have to punish you." he didn't sound at all upset by that fact. He clenches his hand into a fist, draws it back and brings it down into my stomach, hard. I cry out and bend forward, and when I do this he shoves me roughly to the floor. He kicks me in the ribs and I curl up into a ball to protect myself.  
"Into the bathroom!" he roars at me, and not wanting to anger him any further I pull myself up and stagger after him. I stop just short of the door, staring at what I presume to be my 'punishment'. 'More like torture' I think.'He must have known I'd screw up'. He pushes me inside the door. "Go, bitch." he tells me.  
"N-no... You can't!" I can't stop shaking, and I'm sure I can hear my own heart thumping in my ears. All my thoughts are focused on what is to come, and I barely register his hands pulling my shirt over my head, unclasping my black skirt and yanking my panties down.  
"Step out" he orders, and I obey. He tells me to lie down and I obey. He tells me to spread my legs and I start to panic. I start begging him to leave me alone, to let me go. He slaps me hard across my face, and I obey. Tears stream down my face and I barely notice them as the bastard forces himself into me. Something inside me breaks, and I scream in pain. He clamps a hand over my mouth, grunts, and comes. I sob. Finally he pulls out of me, and upon standing up grabs a fistful of my blonde hair, yanking me to my feet. I cry even harder, and he hits me again.  
"In." he tells me. I stare at the device of torture in front of me, and after taking a deep breath, plunge my foot into the ice that is filling the bath tub. I gasp at the raw coldness and have to compose myself before putting the other foot in. I lower myself, my face contorted in pain. The ice burns at my skin, and I struggle to breathe. "Please let me out!" I gasp. My chest hurts, my lungs feel like they're twisted and manipulated so they can't receive any oxygen. "Please!" I beg. "I think I'm about to have an asthma attack!" he ignores me, just smiles cruelly at the sight of me writhing in pain. He pushes me down so that I am almost totally submerged and I try to scream, but instead panicked gasps come to my throat. I can feel my airway closing and I cough, practically choking on the mucus that is filling my throat. He suddenly reaches under my arms and pulls me roughly from the melting ice, depositing me on the floor. Shivers wrack my body uncontrollably, and not just from the freezing cold. I reach for my skirt but he kicks it away. "Please! My inhaler, I'll die if I don't take it... Please!" he laughs again, and bending down, fucks me again. I arch my back, and as he pulls himself out of me, he places the tip of his stiletto against my right upper cheek, and holding me still, drags a small but deep cut down my face.  
"Something to remember me by" he sneers, before tossing my clothes at me. "Listen bitch, if you tell anyone..." he drew his knife lightly across my throat, and left. Straight away I feel in my skirt pocket for my ventolin and take it, breathing a sigh of relief. As my throat begins to reopen I lean back against the bathtub, feeling numb and detached. I rest my head in my cupped hands and cry myself to sleep.

"Remy?" a hand gently shook my shoulder and I opened my eyes to find Cameron standing over me, her expression dripping with solicitude. I swallowed nervously. I was sweating, but shivering. "You have a fever" Cameron said, as if she had read my mind. "And you were screaming in your sleep." I looked up at her, suddenly shocked, before staring blankly at the wall behind her, tears welling up behind my tired eyes. She tilted her head to one side and sat down on the side of my bed. "Who's Sean?" she asks quietly. "Is he the man who-" I cut her off.  
"No! He's... I don't want to talk about it." I curl up on my side and gasp in pain as it puts pressure on my broken ribs. Cameron sighed. "You should try and stay on your back." she tells me.  
"Hurts" I mumbled. She lifted up my gown to look at the damage and grimaced at the newly-formed pattern of bruises covering my skin. She had to take a moment to compose herself before replying. "All the same, lying on your side could cause further damage. We haven't even been able to X-ray your ribcage yet, one of the machines is broken and there's a massive queue for the other. Come on, I'll help you." She firmly grips my shoulders and twists me so that I'm looking up at her again.  
"I'm naturally blonde" I blurted out. Cameron looked confused. She put a hand on my forehead again, checking for delirium, but I shake her off.  
"When I was in college I had this boyfriend, Sean. He was... Rough." She froze, a hand flying up to her mouth in shock as she made the connection. "Oh God." she sank into the chair beside my bed. "So last night wasn't- ...I mean it wasn't the first time something like that had happened?" I shook my head and looked away, ashamed. She put a hand on my cheek and tilted my head so she could look into my eyes.  
"And everything that you said in your sleep... The abuse, the ice baths, the rape... It was all true? Oh... I think I'm gonna throw up..." I was crying and I hadn't even realised. I reached over and grasped her hand, and she stroked my fingers gently. Tears dripped down her own cheeks.  
"I... I need to do a physical exam." she mumbled suddenly. I almost laughed; it was such a ridiculous change of subject. I tried to sit up, and winced. She smiled sympathetically at me and put a hand on my bruised back to support me. "Could you open your mouth for me sweetie? I need to get a swab..." I complied. "Did he... Do anything like that with you?" I thought back. My memories were getting foggier and foggier.  
"I can't remember" I answered honestly. Cameron patted me gently and helped me out of my gown. "Sorry hun." she apologised as I closed my eyes tight, refusing to look at the preliminary damage covering me. Her fingers gently probed my broken body, tutting and cringing as I let out quiet cries of pain. Finally she stroked the hair from my face and laid me back down again.  
"Um... There's just one more thing I need" she blushed and held up a q-tip. Knowing immediately what she meant, heavy sobs started to wrack my body. She looked guilt-ridden, and it wasn't even her fault. "Can I?" she asked, and I nodded slightly. I heard her take a deep breath before lifting up the blankets at the end of my bed. I covered my face with my hands, blushing in embarrassment as she did her job. "I thought it would be better that I did it rather than a nurse." she told me. I mumbled my thanks and when she was done, she stood by my side, unspeaking.  
After a couple of minutes with me staring blankly into space and her watching me stare blankly into space, she spoke again.  
"I think you should tell Lisa." I looked at her for a moment before replying.  
"I can't" I whispered. Cameron handed me a tissue.  
"Hey, shh... It'll be okay. Why can't you? She can help you, talk to you maybe. She'll understand." I coughed a couple of times.  
"Can... Can you tell her for me?" I asked. I put a tentative hand up to my chest- it felt tight and was starting to hurt. _Great _I thought. Cameron nodded, and left the room. I sat up, trying to regain control of my breathing. _Breathe in, breathe out... Breathe in, breathe out... _It was my asthma, of course. It was never usually that bad. I clutched at the cloth hanging over my chest, and doubled over, practically hanging out of the bed.  
And somewhere in the room, a machine beeped noisily. A nurse rushed into the room, followed by a junior doctor. An intern. I gasped for breath, starting to feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen. Before I could even register what was happening, I was being pulled forward, and a stethoscope was pressed against my back. I could hear incoherent voices over my head, and a small pinch as a syringe was injected into my arm.  
"We should intubate" someone said. I was leant backwards, the pillows taken from under my head. I still couldn't breathe. My throat had closed. A hand tilted my head backwards, and another injected me again. _A sedative, _I thought sleepily. I closed my eyes.

_Lisa  
_I sat with my head in my hands, my heart heavy from what Doctor Cameron had just told me. Neither one of us had spoken in nearly five minutes now, and I knew that someone had to break the pattern.  
"And she told you what he was doing to her?" I asked. Allison shook her head.  
"She was crying and talking in her sleep. She mentioned something about ice baths, and a guy named Sean. I think it goes deeper than that though." Something dawned on me.  
"Oh, no..." I groaned. Allison shot me an inquisitive glance. "Her medical files!" I began. "They showed multiple admittances to hospitals all around the area she grew up in. She told me it was because of her asthma, but maybe..." I stood up and retrieved the file from in my desk drawers. It had been there ever since Dr. Hadley had 'spiralled out of control' a few months back. I found the number for one of the hospitals and dialled.  
At the same time, Allison's beeper went off. "Oh God, surely not?" I heard her breathe. She ran out of my office, leaving me alone with a secretary of New York Downtown Hospital on the line.

_A bit too soap opera-y, maybe? Ah well. I love drama :D  
Don't forget to review; I'll get emotionally irrational if you don't. (Nobody wants to see that.)  
Ta for reading!  
Toodle pipsqueak! _


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed! I actually did a little celebratory dance. You shoulda seen it, it was so sad! If you haven't already reviewed, please do as it would make me unbelievably happy!  
Enjoy :)_

Lisa  
I chewed my lip all the way down to Remy's room, one hand behind my back. Feeling such a traitor._  
_I decided that her being intubated and unable to speak would make it easier for me to talk to her. It seemed a bit mean, but it _was_ for her own benefit. I stopped at the door, stunned by the sight of her. She was pale and withdrawn looking, as though she had been stretched too far and wouldn't ever recover. Bruises were spread all over her skin; and that was just of what I could see. I sat on the opposite side of the bed to Allison, whose gaze was fixed on her and Remy's clasped hands. I tried to smile, but could only manage a false grimace. She must have found that comforting though, for the corners of her mouth turned up, trying to return my feeble attempt. She was shaking, and after a couple of minutes of silence I pressed down on her wrists, already burned from the rope that had bound her, to keep her still.  
"I have to give a statement to the police" I began. "And I have to tell them anything that'll help them get a lead on this guy. So I brought these." I produced the notepad and pen from behind my back. She stared blankly at the wall behind her, her lip visibly quivering even under the array of tubes pushed down her throat. I released her arm and handed her the pen, holding up the notepad for her so she wouldn't have to release her grip on Allison. "What was his hair colour?" She blinked a couple of times. She wrote BROWN down.  
"Long, medium, or short?" SHORT. "Eye colour?" GREY. "Skin tone?" WHITE. "Any distinguishing features?" She paused for a moment, before writing 'I didn't see much of his face' in small letters. I had to take the pad from her to be able to read it.  
"Okay." I said quietly. "It wasn't the same man from when you were in medical school, was it?" she shook her head slightly. _Damn. _Less of a lead to go on. Nevertheless, I smiled reassuringly at her and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.  
"What did that guy do to you?" Allison suddenly blurted out. She blushed immediately, and both me and Remy gave her questioning looks. She swallowed apprehensively. "Your... Boyfriend. What else did he do to you?" I looked at the brunette. She was staring at the ceiling, her normally bright eyes clouded with shame and hurt. She seemed to be recounting some long lost memory, and I noticed her hands clench into fists unconsciously . Finally she closed her eyes, tears dripping down her pale cheeks. I could feel the sting of tears in my own eyes, and looked away, telling myself not to cry. Minutes passed, and still Remy hadn't opened her eyes. She was crying silently, as was Allison... And I myself was still fighting hard to keep the tears from coming.  
"Remy?" I placed a hand on her shoulder. "Can you tell us? It might make you feel better." She shook her head.  
"C'mon, sweetie" Cameron piped up. "Just write it down."  
Reluctantly, she picked up the pad. Her hands were shaking so hard that she was struggling to write. Once she'd finished, she passed it to me. I read it,and passed it to Allison.  
'_He hurt me' _she'd written. _'he beat me with his fists or his belt. He whipped me till I passed out from pain. He controlled every part of my life. He wouldn't let me talk to anyone. I wanted to get away, but he said he'd kill me. He cut me. Raped me, made me do stuff I hated doing. When he found out I'd gotten pregnant he stamped on my stomach until I lost the baby. He tortured me.'  
_I heard Cameron gasp several times while she was reading. My mouth was set in a thin line; I was filled with more hatred than I thought was every humanly possible. Remy brought her hands up to her face and let out an anguished sob. She twisted round in her bed so that her face was pressed to the pillows, taking all her many lines and tubes with her.  
"Babe, you'll hurt yourself..." Cameron said feebly. Remy didn't care, and for a moment we helplessly watched her writhe in pain. Old, forgotten pain. We only really sprang into action when she ripped the intubation tubes clean out her throat, screamed in pain, and started thrashing about desperately, one hand reaching out and grasping fistfuls of her blankets. I grabbed one wrist, Allison the other and we flipped her back over.  
"Remy!" I yelled at her. "Stop it, please! You're going to hurt yourself even more!" she cowered back from me and a pang of guilt shot through my body like a bolt of electricity. Sighing, I grabbed a shot of sedative and, as Cameron pulled her onto her side, pushed the needle through the Remy's thigh, not before noticing the faint scars criss-crossing her skin.  
Her body relaxed and went limp, and I staggered to the bathroom and threw up noisily into the toilet bowl. I retched for so long that it felt like I was bringing up baby food; and once I'd finished I collapsed on the floor and burst into tears.  
"Why?" I sobbed. _"Why her?"_

Bit of a short chapter, but I want to skip ahead a little in the next one.  
I'll start writing tonight, and hopefully it'll be up by Friday.  
Toodle pip!


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks for all the great reviews! You actually have NO idea how great they make me feel; they give me a huge self-confidence boost so thanks!_

"Ready to go?" Lisa called through the door. I pulled myself to my feet and flushed away the evidence.  
"Just a minute!" I rinsed out my mouth out, the bitter taste of vomit lurking at the back of my throat. I took one last glance at my broken reflection in the mirror. A stranger stared back, a pale, unfamiliar ghost of what I have become. 'This isn't me' I thought.  
_This isn't me..._

_Lisa  
_When Remy had mentioned going back to her apartment once she'd been discharged, both me and Allison refused point blank. We told her that the police were still using it for evidence, but the truth was that we didn't want her going back to a place with so many bad memories lurking in every damn crevice. We half convinced-half bullied her into agreeing to come and live with me for a while. She reluctantly conceded in the end, and I watched her as she packed her pain meds. Her eyes met mine and she flashed me a coerced smile. I took her bag from her unresisting hand and we left together.  
She looked around the bustling entrance of the hospital, and I could tell quite clearly what she was thinking; that despite all the pain she'd been put through, life had still gone on with or without her. At home a pile of mail would be waiting at her doorstep, the books she had borrowed from the library would still be collecting overdue fines on them, and the bus that she passed almost every day on her way to work would still be on its usual route.  
"Ready?" I asked softly. She nibbled her lip, but nodded.

Allison joined us that evening. I ordered pizza, and we all squished up on the sofa to watch TV. Remy was sandwiched between us; we served as a kind of barrier against all the malice and corruption in the world. When the food came, she politely excused herself and went to the bathroom. She emerged several minutes later, her face flushed and sweaty. Me and Allison exchanged a glance but said nothing. Remy didn't eat anything in the end and instead stared intently at her clasped hands. Her head was starting to loll forwards, so much so that she was in danger of falling off of the sofa. Allison gently pulled her sideways until Remy was lying with her head in Allison's lap. She stroked her back and traced her spine and ribcage absent-mindedly. We both watched her sleep- fitfully, but at least detached from the cold, bitter harshness that was, unfortunately, reality.

_I was standing in the middle of the room, totally naked, my hands interlocked and resting on the back of my head. I had been standing there, demeaned and more embarrassed than I ever thought possible, for nearly an hour when I heard the creak of a door opening. Instantly, both my pulse and breathing escalated. I didn't dare turn round, so instead I watched Sean's shadow pace tauntingly back and forth on the floor in front of me. Neither one of us uttered a single word, the only noise in the room being Sean's heavy boots clunking on the floorboards. Every muscle in my body tensed in dreaded anticipation.  
Finally, when he was right up in my face, our eyes connected. His cold, humourless blue eyes penetrated my own.  
And then he growled the words I will remember for the rest of my life.  
"Get down on your knees and beg, bitch."_

I woke covered in sweat, tears pouring down my flushed face. My head (rather embarrassingly) was in Allison's lap, and both her and Lisa were leaning over me, concern etched on their faces. I shivered involuntarily, and Lisa reached over to place a hand on my cheek.  
"Your burning up." she announced, and Allison juggled me around in her arms while at the same time trying to peel of my jacket.  
Lisa got to her feet and went in search of a thermometer.  
And I closed my eyes and said nothing.

***

The next morning I was woken at half past two by a raging, agonising pain in my abdomen. I gasped and dragged myself upwards, feeling as if a red hot poker was digging through my insides. I kneaded my fist into my side, and pulled myself from my bed on the sofa. I only got halfway to the bathroom when I was violently sick. I flopped onto the hardwood floor, writhing in the blinding pain and crying bitterly.  
"Lisa!" I rasped, my lips not quite able to form the words. Silence. She hadn't heard me. I rolled over clutching my stomach, as something inside of me 'broke' and what I presumed to be blood trickled down my thighs. I took a deep breath in, and screamed. "LISA!" She was by my side in a heartbeat, a hand to my sweaty forehead.  
"I sorry" I cried. "I made a mess. I sorry!" Lisa shook her head.  
"It doesn't matter now. Can you sit up?" I shook my head, and screamed as a fresh wash of agony attacked my body. Cuddy swore, and half carried me to the bathroom, where she peeled back my pyjama pants and wiped me down with a damp cloth.  
"Try to stay still honey." I let myself go limp, tears streaming down my flushed face. I felt sleepy, and I could feel my eyes starting to droop like a Basset Hound's.  
"Remy? Remy!" Lisa sounded panicked. "Stay with me baby, okay? Just stay with me..." I tried to keep my eyes open and watched her as she ran for the phone to call an ambulance. I couldn't hear what she said, and I was too delirious to work out what was happening for myself. When she came back she took me into my arms and stroked my hair; and despite her protests, I fell into a welcome sleep.

_Someone's shouting my name. I can hear it. But I don't want to acknowledge it. So instead I groan and turn over sleepily, only to be pulled back. My hands, my feet, they are being strapped in.  
Oh God. He's back. He's going to kill me. No, please, no.  
I scream, loudly, but instead of the excruciating pain I am anticipating, a pair of gentle hands gently shake me by the shoulders.  
So I open my eyes._

Lisa stood over me, tears slowly tracing lines down her pale cheeks. I tried to reach out and brush them away, only to find that I was strapped to my bed. I clenched my fists, feeling trapped and betrayed.  
"Gettem off me" I mumble through my oxygen mask. I hadn't been tied up that way since Sean, and I was unwilling to have to go through it again. Lisa looked away, shaking her head.  
"I'm sorry, we didn't want to have to do it. But you were moving too much, and we couldn't help you because we couldn't wake you, and..." her voice just trailed off.

_"Fuck, bitch!" Sean cursed as my leg spasmodically swung backwards and accidentally hit him. "You're in for it now." He yanked me up by my hair, ripped the shirt off my back and threw me back down. I cried out in pain I hit the paved floor, a bone in my arm cracking under the force. I watched nervously as he searched around in his wardrobe for a minute, eventually pulling a few lengths of rope out. He tied my wrists to the leg of the sofa and slowly unlooped his belt from his trousers. I turned away and stared at the floor, trying to block out the excruciating pain.  
He pulled his arm all the way past his shoulder, and brought the belt down with a 'SWISH' and a sickening 'CRACK'.  
_  
"What's wrong with me?" I gasped through the pain still gnawing at my insides. I clenched and unclenched my fists. Lisa sat down on the side of my bed.  
"You had an ectopic pregnancy sweetie. We're about to prep you for emergency surgery." Tears stung my eyes. I hadn't even known I was pregnant. This was the second baby I'd lost before my thirtieth birthday. I felt numb all over; I was mildly aware of Lisa attempting to comfort me but nothing could pull my mind away from this horrible, tortuous hurt. I was angry. I was upset. And before I knew it, I was being anaesthetised and was fading into unconsciousness.

_Meh. So much drama!  
I don't know if this has crossed your minds yet, but this is thoroughly unrealistic. I'm turning House into a frigging soap! (Sorry!)  
Anyway, I tried to make this chapter longer than usual but failed miserably._

_Don't forget to review!_


	5. Chapter 5

Hello everyone.

I know you expected this to be a long chapter with many apologies and half-hearted excuses but it isn't. There's nothing fake about this.

Kaia A'ala Rhea Lombardi passed away on Friday the 22nd July at 3:22 am with her son and brother in her arms. I know she promised to try and finish these but she never did, and there were no documents on her computer

I hope you see this as Kaia's goodbye and also just an informative, but Kaia didn't really leave us with instructions with what to do when she left, we knew it was coming but we never asked her what to do with her fics. It crossed my mind that we should continue them but only briefly, it would be an insult to her talent.

Well, here it is then. The last chapter of any of Kaia's stories ever, unless her laptop harbours some documents, but she spent her last weeks in palliative care, saying goodbye to her friends and declining treatment

She was an inspiration and a perfect friend to everyone who ever met her, she always had a bright outlook, whether it was her brother and his goldfish obsession or telling us that one of her doctor's was really hot.

This is Erin and Ely, signing off for Kaia for one last time.

We won't deactivate this account, but there will be no more updates. All reviews and alerts go to Ely now and we'll appreciate every message of comfort we may receive because knowing Kaia and then losing her hurts more than it's imaginable

Good luck with your own writing, and… goodbye.

Ely and Erin


End file.
